


Play

by naiad (iamnaiad)



Category: Skins
Genre: Gen, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2007, recipient:jargonelle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-10
Updated: 2010-11-10
Packaged: 2017-10-13 03:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/132496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamnaiad/pseuds/naiad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Gigantic thanks to Julad, Terri, and theBitchTrolls for all their beta and meltdown prevention efforts.  It's much appreciated!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Play

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jargonelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jargonelle/gifts).



> Gigantic thanks to Julad, Terri, and theBitchTrolls for all their beta and meltdown prevention efforts. It's much appreciated!

Jal watched Cassie tangle and untangle her fingers around Sid's with delicate precision. Sid's hands weren't much bigger than Cassie's really; a bit broader, a little less frail, but they seemed impossibly strong in comparison. It was a disaster in waiting; a beautiful disaster, but eventually it was all going to go to shit.

Right now everything was fine, but at some point Cass would stop eating again because of something Sid did or didn't say or do and Sid would blame himself, or Sid would get into strife, _again_ , and there'd be trouble and Cass would stop eating _again_. Or Cass would do it to herself for reasons that no one but her would comprehend. _Again_. It was what Cassie did. Jal fucking hated it and she was useless to stop it. And, God, she didn't even want to think about Michelle and Tony.

"Jal? Hey! Hey, Jal!"

"What? Sorry." She looked up at Cassie.

Cassie smiled, broad and glowing. "Are you coming on the grand adventure?"

Jal glanced at Sid who was using his free hand to shovel chips from his plate to his mouth and tried to figure out what she'd missed. "Grand adventure?"

"London," said Sid around a mouthful of chips.

"Is Chris still banging on about that?" Somehow the perfect summer atmosphere that had spread like a rash and caused happiness everywhere she turned had infected her friends. There was no escaping it. Problem was, it was all just on the surface, and a trip to London wasn't going to stop the cracks breaking through.

Sid nodded. "Yep."

"It's going to be lovely," Cassie said. "Sid and I are going to get ice-cream."

"Ice-cream?"

"Ice-cream." Cassie nodded, smiling still. Jal was starting to wonder if it was permanent. It didn't seem possible.

Jal responded to Cassie's smile with a small one of her own, keeping her braces hidden, and said, "Ice-cream's nice."

"Cassie's parents took her for ice-cream on a visit to Soho when she was small. We thought it might be nice to do something like that. Something..." Tiny creases formed across the bridge of Sid's nose and then he grinned. "Something nostalgic."

"Great," said Jal. There'd be no escaping it now.

Cassie reached across the table to clasp one of Jal's hands. "You will come won't you? Come and play with us?" She paused. "You think too much, Jal. It's not healthy."

Jal looked at their hands. "All right. But it had better not get too mental."

Cassie's smile was sweet. "Does it matter if it does?"

"No," Jal said. "I suppose not." What did anything matter really?

~

The clarinet balances across her palms; cold and alien. Ever since Anwar's birthday, playing has been impossible. She's lost count of the number of times she's tried to play only to stop within minutes of starting. Each and every time she's tried to wallow in the melody her fingers have gone numb. Everything that made it special is gone.

Jal dropped the clarinet on the bed and watched it bobble slightly before settling into the duvet. Her stomach dropped, the now familiar nausea returning, and her eyes stung. She turned her back; left the room.

In the shower, with water pounding against her skull, Jal tried to give in. But the tears wouldn't fall. She didn't have any real reason to cry.

~

Friday was almost gone by the time Jal opened the front door to Michelle. Her brothers were pounding away at half-arsed raps and shitty rhythms that reverberated through every wall. There was no sleep to be had; it was lucky anyone heard the door at all.

"You're coming with me," Michelle said when she saw Jal.

"What?"

Michelle slipped past Jal and dragged her along by the hand. "Tomorrow night's going to be big, so there is no way I'm letting you dress yourself. We're going to find an outfit to make you fabulous." Michelle stopped and looked at Jal as Jal stumbled against her. "More fabulous," she said with her stern, no bullshit, expression. "Because you are, Jal and I don't think we tell you that enough."

Jal stared and willed her brain to function. "What," she said again. "What's going on? Is something the matter?"

"Of course nothing's the matter. We're off to London tomorrow and it's going to be fab." Michelle tugged Jal's hand and started moving again. "Now come on."

"Oh, God," Jal said as her brain caught up. "Don't tell me that's actually happening?"

"Yes," Michelle said, pulling Jal up the stairs.

"You do realise it's nearly midnight?" Jal was reasonably certain Michelle didn't realise it at all. "I was about to go to bed."

"Really?" Michelle rummaged through Jal's wardrobe then threw some clothes across the room. They hit Jal in the chest and fell to the floor. "Time flies when you're having fun. Isn't that what they say?" Michelle slammed the wardrobe door closed. "Come on. Hurry up."

Michelle fidgeted about the bedroom, her fingers trailing over things she'd seen a million times before. Jal gathered the clothes off the floor. "Can't we do this tomorrow?" She asked. "I can come over before we go."

Michelle shook her head and waved her hands. "No. Now, shoo. Go and change. There's no time to waste."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"No." Michelle pushed Jal gently in the back. "I'm saving up for tomorrow. Now go."

Jal went.

In her absence Michelle had swept through Jal's room with brutal efficiency. Jal's rucksack was sitting on the bed, ready for an overnight trip; her spare pyjamas poking through a gap in the zip. Michelle was holding the clarinet.

"I thought you could stay over," Michelle said. "It's late, like you said, so it'd be easier. But I have to go to Tony's tomorrow, so I'll need to leave before lunch."

Jal went with the easiest option available. "Okay," she said and reached for her clarinet. "How is Tony?"

"Tony's great." Michelle's voice was buoyant as she brushed the question aside and looked at Jal intently. "It was on the floor."

"Yes," Jal said.

"Why?" Michelle kept it out of Jal's reach and turned it over in her hands as if memorising the design.

Jal sat down; began to pull on her shoes. "I put it there."

"Right," Michelle said, drawing the word out well past its intended length. "But that doesn't answer my question, Jal."

"No." Jal agreed. "Let's go."

"Jal..."

Jal took the clarinet and put it on the bed. "Let's go."

~

Jal passed her dad on the way into the house.

"Jal," he said after she'd muttered `hello'. "A word?"

She sighed and nodded. "What is it?"

"Come to the studio."

He walked away and Jal followed him wondering what he might possibly want. Their relationship had been better lately, but it still wasn't a glowing model of parent/child relations.

Jal stayed standing as her father sat on the settee.

"Sit down, Jal," he said. "Please?"

She sat with her knees and feet together, palms flat on her thighs, and waited.

Her dad didn't say anything for a while and Jal forced herself to sit calmly. "What is it, dad?"

"I don't hear you playing much anymore."

"You never heard me much before," Jal said.

He inclined his head. "I heard more than you knew."

"Right."

"I was thinking maybe you'd like to play on a track I'm working on - the sound would fit perfectly." Her dad paused. "If you're still playing..."

Jal twisted her fingers together to stop from clenching her hands into fists against her thighs. "I'm playing," she said.

Her father reached across the space between them and laid a large hand over both of her smaller ones. The warmth from them made Jal feel brave, safe.

She blinked a few times and looked up. "It's not the same."

"As?" He squeezed her hands gently.

"I just... I can't feel it, dad. The way I felt before, it's gone." Jal sighed. "It's hard now; like an argument, a fight."

"Sometimes being a musician is nothing more than hard work." Her father leant in and wrapped his arms around her. "But the rest of the time it's the best thing in you."

Surprised, Jal clung for a moment then sat back. She sniffed and said, "I have to go. I'm going out."

"All right." Her father let her escape his embrace, but as she neared the door he said, "The track I want you to play on; it's about your mother."

Jal hesitated and turned back to look at him. "Dad..."

He held up a hand and Jal stopped talking. "Just think about it, please. I don't know what I'm going to do with it yet, but it would mean a lot to me if you decided to play on it."

"Okay," she said and walked out with her skin tingling and her eyes burning, but there were still no tears.

~

On her bed were two outfits and her clarinet. The first two she had laid out before her shower. The last was exactly where she'd left it the night before. Jal looked at all three then picked up the clarinet.

It was cool against her lips and she let it rest there for a moment before inhaling a deep breath.

Nothing.

Jal exhaled through her nose. The clarinet remained silent. She inhaled again, held the breath for a moment then released it. It would all be so much easier if she understood why; why playing now made her feel like a complete failure when once it had been the exact opposite.

She ran a fleeting hand along the polished surface of the barrel, slipping her fingers past the keys and down to the bell, mentally naming each part as she went. The case was resting against the wall beside her music stand. Jal opened it and set the clarinet inside gently.

Leaving it behind, she went to her bed and the two outfits spread on it. To the left were the clothes borrowed from Michelle; fitted, revealing, but not flesh-baring, and designed for someone who wasn't her. On the right were the clothes she'd usually wear. They were comfortable and reassuring and familiar and utterly boring. She hated them, but she didn't much like Michelle's either.

Jal ignored the clothes, dropped her robe and stood in front of the mirror. It wasn't awful. In fact, it was sort of okay. She wasn't fat; maybe a little stockier than she would have liked, but she was short and nothing was going to change that. Jal catalogued her body; nice eyes, good lips, broad nose, passable hair, toned arms, etcetera. She had great tits. Good enough to make the boys stupid - more stupid. In the end she said, "Fuck it," softly, just to herself, and then louder, with more force, "Oh, just fuck it."

She was tired of it all: of not being able to play, of worrying about Cassie and Michelle and wondering who would fall on her first; of being the good one, the responsible one, and the predictable one. Good old reliable Jal. Ever dependable and ready to pick up the pieces, that was her.

"Fuck it," she said again and picked up Michelle's dress.

~

She was the last one to arrive; intentionally so. Jal wanted to experience that feeling again - the one where everybody looked like they weren't sure she was the same person they thought they knew. The one where jaws dropped and boys stumbled and alcohol appeared as if by magic. It was beyond ridiculous, the way a pair of boobs and a tight dress turned nominally functioning men into complete morons, not to mention the sexism, but it made her feel indestructible. In the midst of rolling her eyes at their reactions when Michelle had last dressed her up, Jal had discovered that she enjoyed the sense of control their blithering had given her. She'd felt vibrant and untouchable.

It hadn't lasted long, and in the end she'd gone back to being the same old Jal, but it was something she needed now.

The reaction didn't disappoint. Jal basked in the warmth of everyone's attention as they gathered around her outside the shopping centre. She laughed, her head tipped back as Sid got tongue tied while attempting to tear his eyes from her tits, and then rolled her eyes, because that was what they expected.

"Marvellous." Cassie whispered in her ear. "You look amazing."

Jal turned around. Cassie was done up like a classic movie star, her hair in curls that framed her face, the pretty red dress flaring from her waist. Cassie stuck her foot out. "Look, Jal. No socks."

Cassie's feet were bare aside from the delicate shoes that matched her dress in a style that was all Cassie's own.

"That's great, Cass," Jal said, pretending she understood the point Cassie was making.

Chris swung his arms around both of them and poked his head in between. "Right then. Shall we go?"

"Go where exactly," Sid said. "You haven't told us anything, Chris, except that we're supposedly going to London for 'the best night of our lives'".

~

"You can't be serious," Jal said.

Chris nodded his head emphatically and bounced from one foot to the other. "Completely."

"I dunno, man," Anwar said, rubbing at the back of his head. "Whenever we do this sort of stuff things always end up in the toilet - sometimes literally."

"You get pissed on once," said Sid, "and no one ever lets you live it down."

They were gathered outside Temple Meads station in a little cluster off to the side. Chris had shepherded them onto a bus to the train station after Jal arrived. So here they were, standing outside Temple Meads, debating the merits of fare jumping all the way to London.

"You do know that we could just take a bus," said Anwar.

Michelle was nodding. "I can't run in these shoes, Chris. There's just no way."

"You girls won't have to run," he said. "Just sweet talk your way past the guards. Or don't you think you can?"

Jal rolled her eyes as Michelle glared at Chris and Cassie grinned. In five minutes she was going to be standing at a gate pretending her IQ was smaller than her shoe size as Michelle and Cassie proved they could wrap anyone they wanted around their fingers. "Fuck. Come on then," she said. "Let's get it over with."

"Oh, yes." Cassie smiled. "Let's." She hooked one arm around Jal's elbow and the other around Michelle's and led them into the station. "We'll meet you in a carriage."

"So how are we getting on then?"

Sid's voice carried after them as Jal let herself be pulled along by Cassie's enthusiasm.

~

The poor bastard of a guard hadn't stood a chance, Jal reflected. He'd been bamboozled from two directions as Cassie and Michelle had charmed and cajoled their way onto the train with a sob story ripped straight from a soap - Hollyoaks probably.

Jal had played her part too; taking an active role for the first time ever as she pretended to be distraught over the sudden illness of her brother back in London. They'd come to Bristol for a bit of a holiday you see, and to investigate the university, but then some nasty git had stolen their things (including their rail tickets and all their clothes except what they'd been wearing the night before) and Jal's brother had fallen ill and they were just absolutely desperate to be on the next train home. Jal was predicting an acting career in Cassie's future - the way she'd balanced those tears on the rims of her eyes was award-winning. Of course it had all been wasted on the stupid twat. He'd only heard one word in three, what with being occupied by avidly watching their tits.

Cassie hadn't unlinked their arms at all during the whole process and now she led them to the nearest carriage of the train conveniently sitting at the platform. Using the hand clutching their 'reprinted' 'return' tickets to London, she gave a brief wave to the guard and they ducked through the door.

~

When the boys walked into the carriage they were a perfect picture of feigned cool. Their steps were measured, their shoulders relaxed and arms loose. But on closer inspection Anwar's eyes were darting left to right, Sid's fists were clenched and Maxxie seemed to be fixated on the floor. Only Chris and Tony seemed unaffected - Chris, because he probably _didn't_ care, and Tony, because...well, who knew. The obvious reasons didn't apply anymore.

"So you made it on then." Jal said, injecting as much sarcasm as possible. "And here we thought we might get to have a nice night out without you lot."

A quick glance and Maxxie and Anwar chorused, "We love you too, Jal."

She rolled her eyes; then smiled. It was supposed to be fun, after all.

"Of course you do," she said as they slid into the seat beside her. "Hey! A bit of space, please."

"Sorry. No room." Maxxie grinned. "Unless An will let me sit his lap."

Anwar shook his head in exaggerated disbelief. "I don't think so, Max." His eyes slid away. "But Jal is most welcome."

"I'll pass, thanks," Jal said. "I've heard stories about you and public transportation."

Anwar's eyes widened and then he punched Maxxie on the shoulder. "You told!"

Maxxie did his very best to look innocent. "What? No!"

"Liar," Anwar said, his eyes twinkling. "Jal, did you ever hear about that party Maxxie went to in West End? At the ice rink?"

"Anwar!" Maxxie clapped his hand over Anwar's mouth. "Ignore him. He doesn't know what he's on about. Besides, the things he got up to at his cousin's thing in--argh!"

The stand off between Maxxie and Anwar turned into war, their bodies twisting and pulling as they fought for supremacy in a space the size of an average toilet cubicle.

Jal squirmed up the back of the seat, using the window for balance, until she was perched on top. For the first time she noticed that Cassie had climbed out of her chair and been replaced by Tony. Cassie and Sid were sitting behind her now, watching Chris as he plonked a small knapsack on the table.

"Supplies!" He said and pulled the zip with a flourish.

Sid rubbed his hands together. "Excellent. What have you got? Any chocolate?"

Chris reached across the table and smacked Sid lightly on the forehead. "Chocolate," he scoffed. "Of course I don't have chocolate. What I have is much better."

"Oh, honestly, Chris," Jal said. "Isn't it enough that we didn't pay for tickets; you had to bring pills too?"

"It's supposed to be a night out," Chris said. "Besides, that's not all I brought." He began pulling things from his bag as if it was a magical sack: lager, weed, pills, and food of all sorts.

"Excellent," said Maxxie over Jal's shoulder. He used her as leverage to lean over and pick up the bag of pills. Then he popped it open and extracted a pill. "What do we owe you, mate?"

Chris took the bag back and passed it on to Cassie. "Nothing."

"You want to take them now! Jesus." Jal narrowed her eyes. "Chris..."

"I have my sources, Jal. No trouble, I promise. No dealers hunting me down at college either." Chris held his hand out to her and she saw a small white pill nestled between his fingertips. He wiggled them. "For you."

Jal looked at it for a moment; saw the others passing the pills around f the corner of her eye. She took the pill.

Chris was watching her carefully and Jal called his bluff, jerking her head back slightly in demand. "Well, give us drink then," she said.

He grinned, popped the cap off a bottle, and handed it over.

Jal took it and drank, washing the pill down and refusing to acknowledge the bitter after taste at the back of her throat.

She elbowed Maxxie, deliberately pushing him into Anwar. "Well, come on. Shove over," she said and slid down into her seat. Anwar stumbled out and Maxxie followed.

A moment later Chris slipped in next to her.

~

Jal watched Michelle burrow in against Tony's chest, her shoulder tucked under his arm, her head tilted to rest on his shoulder. It was a familiar pose; one Jal had seen a million times before, except now it was different. Before it had seemed like a smug show of possessiveness; Tony's arrogance (and a hint of Michelle's) displayed for everyone to see. Now it just seemed protective.

Who was protecting who, Jal wasn't entirely sure.

Jal swigged her drink and wondered when exactly Sid and Cassie had turned into Michelle and Tony. The last thing she remembered clearly was Chris being dragged off by Maxxie and Anwar in search of food. Or maybe it was drink? Jal wasn't sure. Everything had become a little hazy at some point.

Her grin felt like passing sunshine as it spread further across her face. She hadn't been able to stop smiling for _hours_ \- or in the fifteen minutes since the pill finally came on. It was warm in the carriage, but comfortable; cosy. The table top felt cool against her fingertips, the grooves of vandal created scratches reminding her of her first clarinet.

Her mum had bought it for her second-hand when she was five and on that first day they'd spent hours making noises in the sun that streamed through the living room window. She'd been bad - awful - but then a day had come where she'd hit a perfect note and fallen in love. Nothing could make her feel the way she did when she played. It had been that way since the start.

Jal sighed then realised Michelle was talking. "What? Sorry?"

"Just wondering where those wankers have got to," Michelle said.

"Oh." Jal glanced up at Cassie as she sat in the space Chris had vacated and then went back to observing Michelle and Tony. They were still in the same position. Nothing had changed. Tony smiled at her. Jal squirmed and returned it - hopefully the pill made it more convincing than it felt.

Michelle had started rambling at Cassie, the pair of them engrossed in a conversation that sent Jal's mind drifting. Every now and then Michelle would try to draw Tony into the conversation and then skip over his lack of response.

A twig of sadness jabbed through Jal's pleasant haze, pointy end first. Michelle was trying so hard. She was working constantly to fill the space that had been created when Tony was hit by the truck. Only Tony was still there; he'd just become a hole in the wall covered by wallpaper. Michelle's repairs could only be cosmetic. No one had expected Tony to recover, and no one had expected Tony to recover and become Effie.

He looked at Jal over the bottle of beer he was drinking and smiled again. This smile was a bit more familiar. There was a touch of nastiness in it that felt reassuring, except that anything unpleasant seemed aimed at himself. Jal sometimes suspected he was doing penance.

She felt a tweak at her arm and looked up.

Cassie grinned, and glowed. Cassie was always glowing now, Jal thought. She hoped the light never went out. "Let's go, Jal."

"Where?" Jal slouched into her seat. "I'm comfortable here."

"I want another drink and we've run out." Cassie backed out of her seat, leading Jal forward. "Keep me company."

Jal stood still for a moment, trying to get her balance. Beer plus pill plus train plus heels equalled instability. "They aren't going to serve us, you know."

"I know," Cassie said lightly. "But I want to go for a walk and a juice will be fine. Besides, Tony and Michelle want some time alone."

Jal snorted. "It's not like company ever stopped them before."

"That was before," Cassie said. She started walking, leaving Jal to follow. "I'm thirsty."

~

They were sitting on the floor in the little space between carriages, swaying to the melody Cassie was humming, when Chris and Sid came racing through the doors on Jal's left.

"Get off at the next station," Chris shouted as he bolted through the other set of doors.

"Can't stop," Sid gasped. "Chased. Caught."

Both boys disappeared and a moment later Jal had to swallow her grin as a dishevelled ticket inspector heaved his way between the doors. He pulled up when he saw Cassie and Jal; wiped a hand over his red forehead.

"What are you girls doing in here?" It was more demand than question.

Cassie was smiling openly. "It was more comfortable here," she said. "I needed a rest from those awfully uncomfortable seats." She reached out and rested a gentle hand on the inspector's arm, just above his elbow. "You look positively worn out. You should rest."

As she spoke she turned him about face and began to lead him back the way he came. Jal ducked her head as he looked about in confusion.

"Now see here, young lady," he said. "I have two misbegotten idiots who don't have a ticket to catch. I don't have time to be resting."

"Oh, but you need it," Cassie said. "Just look at you, all red. Doesn't he look awful, Jal. Ready to faint almost."

Jal nearly choked. "You do look a little unwell," she said and covered her nerves with a cough. "Perhaps you should sit down - just for a bit."

The man glared at her, but didn't fight it as Jal took his other elbow and began to help Cassie guide him to an unused seat. They shared a conspiratorial grin behind his back.

"Do you have tickets?"

"Of course," Cassie said, stroking his arm using the faintest of touches. "Do you want to see them?"

Jal began reaching into her purse.

"No. No. It's fine," he said and stood. "I'd best be getting on. Thank you." He smiled at them both, running a hand over his hair at the same time. "If you have any problems ask for Jack and I'll take care of you. But don't go sitting between carriages again. It's not safe."

Cassie and Jal nodded together. "We promise," said Cassie. "We didn't know."

"Okay, then," he said, and left in the direction they'd watched Sid and Chris disappear in.

When the doors swished and they couldn't see him anymore, they fell against each other in a fit of giggles.

~

"Didcot," Anwar said again. "We got off at fucking _Didcot_."

"What's in Didcot?" Maxxie asked.

Anwar slung an arm across the back of Maxxie's shoulders and spun them in a broad circle. "Nothing, Maxxie my friend. Nothing at all." They stumbled as they stopped turning, feet tangling with each other.

"It can't be that bad, surely," Sid said from where he'd slumped against a tree on the tiny patch of park opposite the station.

"Yes. It can be. I have a cousin who used to live here. My mum made us visit every holidays and there is absolutely fucking nothing to do." Anwar flopped next to Sid. "This is awful."

"It's not awful," Chris said. "Where's your faith? Your imagination? Too much television, that's the problem. This, mate, is a fucking adventure."

"I don't _want_ an adventure, Chris. I want a bollocking good time; preferably with sex at the end."

Jal's pill was wearing off, but everything was still distant, and the section of her brain that contained responsibility and caution was standing beside her, urging her to take a risk. Scarily, she thought it looked a bit like Maxxie in devil horns. "I'd like an adventure," she said.

"Me too," added Cassie. "I was promised a grand adventure."

Sid struggled up and wrapped his arms around her. "You heard the lady. We need an adventure. And maybe ice cream."

Cassie clapped her hands. "Ice cream would be fantastic." She turned around and gave Sid a kiss on the tip of his nose. "Lovely boy."

Jal laughed with everyone as Sid's neck and cheeks flushed.

"This way," said Maxxie. "The bloke over at the station said there was a decent pub up on Manor Rd - the Queens."

"Don't you ever stop flirting?" Jal asked, half expecting Anwar or Sid to get in first with a crack about the pub's name.

Maxxie winked at her and looped an arm around her waist. "Not if I can help it. Shall we go, milady."

"Just a minute." Jal leant down and re-did the clasps on her shoes then she clasped a hand over the one at her waist. "Lead on, kind sir."

They began walking and when Jal glanced over her shoulder she saw the mismatched gaggle of her friends following behind them: Tony and Michelle in an invisible bubble of their own, Sid and Cassie swinging their hands between them as Cassie skipped along, and Chris and Anwar jabbing fingers at each other and dancing around in circles. Jal turned back around and smiled at the road ahead.

~

"God, my feet are killing me." Jal staggered to the nearest chair and collapsed into it. "Someone get me a drink."

Everyone tumbled into their own chairs until only Sid was standing.

"Oh. Right. Fine," he said. "I'll get the drinks then shall I?"

The response was typical. "Thanks, Sid." "Cheers, mate." "Get a jug." Just another night at the pub.

Jal pulled her shoes off and stuck her feet into the nearest lap. "Rub," she said.

Chris curled his hands around her feet and kneaded them with his fingers.

"Right," Maxxie said. "This music sucks. Who's got change?"

A pile of change appeared in the middle of the table, deposited by many hands. Jal dropped her own share in then closed her eyes and let her head fall back. She heard Maxxie scoop up the money and Anwar say, "I'll help you choose."

~

Chris's hands were magic, but as soon as the beer arrived, they vanished. "All done," he said.

Jal opened her eyes and put her feet down. A drink was as good as a foot rub - for the moment. There was a pause in the music and then Anwar whooped.

"Finally!" Maxxie yelled. "Dance?"

"God, no," Jal said as a few of the others hopped up. She stuck her feet up on a vacated chair and sat back to watch, beer in hand. "How the fuck are we getting home," she wondered.

~

Maxxie slid onto the chair next to Jal, pint in hand.

"So you may have been right," he said.

Jal looked at him.

"About what," she asked.

"People acting strange. Everything being fucked." Maxxie gulped at his drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Jal frowned; she'd almost forgotten that conversation. She waited.

"Anwar," Maxxie said. "Anwar is fucked." He drank again.

Jal looked at him more closely, saw the slight sway and relaxed muscles, and realised he was drunker than she'd first thought - or he'd found more pills.

"What's he done now?"

Maxxie glanced across the pub to where Anwar was standing with Chris and Jal followed suit. "Nothing," he said. "Just...you know."

Jal watched Anwar. She didn't see anything weird. "No. I don't know."

"He keeps dancing close; touching me. It's getting...awkward." Maxxie put his glass down with a thud. "I think he's doing it on purpose and I don't know what to do."

"He's not doing it on purpose, Max." Jal was fascinated with the way Chris's arms were waving madly through the air - wanted to know what the hell he was describing. "It's Anwar."

"Yeah," Maxxie said. "It's Anwar - crisis of Muslim conscience Anwar who had his hand on my arse not ten minutes ago."

"Huh," Jal said.

"Everything's fucked," said Maxxie as Anwar walked towards them. "I need to piss."

He got up and left and Anwar sat in his seat.

"What's up with him?" Anwar asked.

"Needs to piss, thinks you're fucking with his head," said Jal.

"Oh." Anwar looked down at the table and they sat in silence for a moment as the pub's patrons bustled around them. "I think I might be gay."

Jal rolled her eyes. "You aren't gay."

"How do you know?" Anwar looked at her directly for the first time since sitting down. "I have all these weird feelings for Maxxie."

"You aren't gay," she repeated.

"It wasn't the vibration."

"What?" Jal poured more beer into her glass. She wasn't drunk enough for this.

Anwar drank some of his own, leaving half a mouthful at the bottom of his glass. "Never mind. Maybe I'm just gay for Maxxie."

"Anwar, _you're not gay_."

"But..." he said.

Jal swallowed another large mouthful and leant forward onto the table. "Listen. You aren't gay, all right. You love Maxxie, but you don't want to fuck him - you adore women for God's sake. Tits leave you speechless." She had another drink; paused for emphasis. "Besides, I don't think he wants to fuck you either."

"But... What?" Anwar's expression was part horror, part wounded pride. "Why wouldn't he?"

"Let's see... Because you're his friend and he loves you, but you aren't his type." She was definitely not drunk enough. Jal pulled her feet off the chair and looked around for her shoes.

"What do you mean not his type? I'm everyone's type!"

Jal rolled her eyes yet again and spotted her shoes. "You're not gay, Anwar," she said then pulled her shoes on and left the table. " _Honestly_."

~

She found Michelle, Tony and Cassie gathered around a pool table heckling Sid who was attempting to line up a shot. He gave them the finger and played it. It missed.

"Hi," Jal said.

"Jal!" Michelle chanted. "Jal, Jal, Jal. Where have you been?"

Jal let herself be drawn into a loose hug and swayed along with Michelle's half-hearted dancing. Tony reached around and enveloped them both, his chin resting on Michelle's head. Jal sighed. How long would they last like this, she wondered.

A moment or ten later, Jal felt another body thump against hers as she was crushed in a more enthusiastic embrace.

"Kenny just called," said Chris. "There's a wicked party happening near Castle Park. He said we should come."

"How are we going to get there?" Sid asked, his voice muffled as Jal wriggled her way free of the crush of bodies.

"Yes, Chris." Jal raised her eyebrows. "How are we going to get there?"

Chris grabbed Tony and Sid by the arms. "We'll sort something out. Find Maxxie and Anwar and meet us outside in ten minutes."

Jal stood between Cassie and Michelle and watched them leave. "Jesus. They're going to steal a car, aren't they?"

Cassie nodded. "I think so."

Jal dropped her head forward; caught a glimpse of Cassie's feet and remembered something she'd wanted to ask. "No socks, Cass?"

"My shoes fit without them now." Cassie pointed one foot towards Jal and beamed like the sun.

~

Jal was squashed beside Maxxie and Anwar in the backseat of a rattling old van. Tony was driving, Michelle and Chris beside him, and Sid and Cassie were on the seat in between. She glanced at Maxxie and Anwar. "So?" She asked.

"Not gay," they said in unison.

"Who's not gay?" Chris yelled from the front. "Didn't we confirm your gayness less than five days ago, Maxxie? Something about a public park..."

They ignored him and Jal let herself to be smug. "Told you," she said to Anwar.

"If you weren't a girl, I'd hit you right now," he replied. "We can't all be as smart as you."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "And we can't all be as dumb as you."

"C'mon, guys. Tell us." Michelle said. "Who's not gay?"

Maxxie laughed and it carried into his words. "Anwar's not gay."

"Didn't we already know that?" asked Sid.

Cassie turned around and kissed Anwar on the cheek, leaving behind a big smear of bright red lipstick. "Lovely," she said.

Suddenly Chris was holding his bag above his head. "Oh yes!" He shouted. "I knew there was more."

Chris dropped the bag and in his hand was a small square container. "Just enough for half each," he said. "Who's got something I can cut with?"

"Fuck," Sid said as a police car went past and Chris scrambled about the front seat. "We are so getting arrested."

"No we aren't, mate." Chris popped his head up. "Not with Tony driving. He's our good luck charm."

Tony glanced away from the road and nodded at Chris. It wasn't much of a nod, but it was an acknowledgement. Maybe he'd say something again soon.

Jal smiled to herself. It was unbelievable that she was wishing Tony would talk. Six months ago she probably would have killed for him to shut up.

The van backfired and everyone jumped.

"Fucking hell," Sid said and hid his head in the crook of Cassie's neck. "If the cops don't get us the van fucking will."

~

The party was pumping when they arrived, pushing their way through the door. There was a DJ spinning in the corner of the kitchen, decks on the bench, and people were bouncing all through the house.

Jal felt someone grab her hand and let them lead her to the centre of the crowd, where the party population was most dense. She turned in a circle and saw they'd all come: Sid, Cassie, Michelle, Tony, Maxxie, Anwar, and Chris, who still had his hand curled around hers. Then he let it go and they danced.

The half pill, jagged in her throat on the way down, kicked in, and they danced and danced and danced.

For hours Jal stayed in the centre of it all; dancing and dancing and dancing. She watched her friends smiling and laughing; watched them drift away then make their way back. She felt them touching her, encouraging her to let go, to follow their lead, and still she danced. The sore feet of a few hours before were history. When she felt things begin to slow down and started seeing edges again, she looked around. They were all still there and the only problems on her mind were her own.

There was a stutter in her chest and Jal stopped moving. "I have to go," she said as she looked around at them all once more. They looked back at her, but didn't stop moving themselves. Cassie grinned and Jal grinned back, for once not caring about her braces. "It's been fantastic," she said and ducked into the crowd.

At the door, Chris caught up with her. "I'll walk you home," he said.

Jal looked at him over her shoulder. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

~

It was quiet outside.

After the party, the world seemed perfect and still. It felt like the only things moving were the cool breeze that made the air smell crisp and fresh, and them.

When they reached her front door Chris leant in and gave her a quick but soft kiss on the cheek. "See you Monday," he said.

Jal touched her cheek with the back of her fingers. "Yeah," she said. "See you Monday."

Inside, snug and comfortable in her pyjamas, Jal put her clarinet together. She caressed each piece as she lifted it from the case and once it was completed she ran her hands over everything she could, re-learning the feel of it as an extension of her body.

Then she began to play.


End file.
